it empty, and passed through without let or hindrance.

I expected to see Courgivault at once, but a rise in the ground hid it
still. I took advantage of this natural cover for getting my men
forward without risking a shot. Then, still preceded by Vercherin, we
debouched on the plateau on which the village stood.

Those who have found themselves in a similar situation know by
experience the sudden emotion that is felt when one sees a few
hundred yards off the objective of one's mission, the decisive point
one has to reach, cost what it may; the point where one is almost sure
to find the enemy in hiding, where one has a suspicion that he sees
one, is watching one, silently following all one's movements, and only
waiting for the opportunity of picking one off by an unerring shot.

I stopped my men for a moment. Surrounded by green meadows and
stubble-fields dotted with apple-trees, lay the grey outskirts of the
village It was a very ordinary collection of houses, some of them big
farms, others humble cottages. The tiled roofs formed a reddish mass,
and above them rose the squat church tower. With my glasses I could
distinguish the clock-dial, and could see the time--a quarter past
six.

But this clock seemed to be the only thing in the village with any
life in it. I looked in vain into the gardens and orchards, which
formed a belt of flowers and foliage, for signs of the peaceful
animation of country life. And yet it was the time of day when one
usually sees housewives coming out of the cowsheds, with their sleeves
tucked up and their feet in clogs, carrying pails full of fresh
milk--the time when the heavy carts and reaping machines lumber slowly